Pillow Talk
by K Peaches
Summary: Andronikos Revel reflects on his relationship with his Sith Inquisitor and the scars she's collected from her life as a former slave.


**My first SWTOR drabble with my Sith Inquisitor, Syrenity. I just loved the background story for the SI and Andronikus was fun to romance. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own SWTOR obviously, or else I would totally get Jennifer Hale to sign my customized Shepard profile and Jo Wyatt to sign my Hawke profile. **

Andronikus Revel had jumped into bed with many partners throughout his years as a notorious pirate captain. His exotic tattoos, tough exterior and smoldering eyes captured the hearts of many women he had encountered from world to world. Twi'lek, zabrak, he wasn't picky. There was a miraluka once and _she _was a wild one for a member of the Jedi Order. The thing she did with the Force … "there is no passion" his ass.

Yet, he had never imagined bedding a Sith and coming out of it alive. After the desertion of his crew and the entrance of an enchanting Sith Inquisitor, he needed a free ride off of Tatooine and she seemed like interesting company. Her sarcastic nature, playful attitude, and kindness marked her as a pariah to other Sith, but she didn't care about what others though.

It was her dark eyes that snared him in a dangerous trap. They reflected her inner light, which she proudly displayed to all the Dark Lords around her. Warm eyes that shined with unabashed affection for him, hardened in resolve if anyone threatened her loved ones, and crinkled in delight whenever she delivered a sarcastic remark she found particularly clever.

His tone arms wrapped around her feminine waist and pulled her close, drawing a girlish squeal from the otherwise powerful assassin.

"Andronikus…" she sighed. "Andronikus, Andronikus, Andronikus. Such a mouthful my darling pirate."

Said man smirked and brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Don't ruin the moment," he murmured against her pale forehead. His calloused fingertips traced the shape of her pouting lips. Up her high cheekbones, Revel followed the faded scar above her right eye.

"I've never noticed this one before."

A slight twitch in her jaw indicated it was from before her time as a feared Sith Lord.

Despite the rumors spread about her weak personality due to her actions following the light side of the Force, many had learned the hard way that she was a force to be reckoned with. Any egotistical maniac who dared mention her time as a former slave or her mother was shocked to a near death, then forced to apologize to Syrenity. It caused Khem Val to laugh darkly and Ashara to shuffle from side to side nervously. Revel didn't interfere. It was rare to see the murderous intent in her entire body and lightning literally shooting out her eyes, brought on by the unmentionable horrors she endured as a slave. The only warning her companions had was the insignificant spasm in her jaw muscles.

The dark look in her eyes disappeared and a quirk of her lips replaced it instead.

"Ah, scar number 19," Syrenity sighed blissfully, "That one was from when I lipped off to an Overseer visiting House Thul on Alderaan. I didn't duck in time and a vase smashed into my face."

Wondering how many other scars he hadn't noticed, Revel grasped her delicate cheekbones within his large palms and turned her head side to side.

"What about this one? On your right ear."

"Never accept presents from mesmerized suitors on Nar Shaddaa. The other strippers get jealous and rip fake gold earrings out of your ears for a small leverage."

"What about the scar on your left calf?"

"When I was running form a 'master's' pet nexu and it sunk its teeth in my leg."

"This gash on your inner thigh…"

Syrenity pulled his hand away the afflicted area and placed it on her shoulder instead. "I'd rather not discuss that one, but I'm sure you can guess."

Anger flashed in his eyes as his hand roamed down the smooth skin of her back. Syrenity stiffened noticeably, her breathing becoming ragged while his fingertips reached her lower back, detecting marked skin, including the shape of a two, zero, seven…

Andronikus' throat tightened and his palm lay against the slave tattoo.

"I burned it off the minute I became Lord Zash's apprentice," she whispered solemnly against his bare chest, "with my own lightning. I never wanted to be Sith, but I'd rather be a bloodthirsty Dark Lord trying to reform the Empire than just another slave in the gutters of Hutta."

Andronikus placed a rare affectionate kiss on the former brand, a peck on her eye, a gentle nip to her earlobe and a searing kiss on her lips.

"You know," he murmured against those full lips, "I've always had a thing for women with scars… They're little adventures, each and every one of them."

"Why Andronikus Revel, you softy," Syrenity chuckled in that deep and soulful voice of hers, "I never knew you had a skill for pillow talk."


End file.
